


expanse

by dornishsphinx



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Cactus Memorabilia, Gen, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dornishsphinx/pseuds/dornishsphinx
Summary: The Nonary Game participants journey across the Nevada Desert in opposite directions: Clover and Junpei go shopping for cactus-based souvenirs; Akane plans ahead for the future.





	expanse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for specialagentartemis over on tumblr!

Not even having the energy to close his eyes all the way, Junpei let his head loll back against the headrest. His awareness of the landscape outside the car faded away, desert sun and sand mixing themselves up together into a yellow blur. There was nothing keeping him alert anymore, or at least nothing pressing enough to ward off the tiredness. Even the initial spark of mortal terror brought on by Clover’s driving had faded away after the first few accident-free hours.

He almost didn’t notice it when the scenery started changing, the car drifting to a halt, or Clover contorting herself around to shout at the backseat.

“C’mon! Shopping time!” she said, waving her hand in his face.

Unwillingly, Junpei found himself blinking into focus. Beside Clover, sitting in the shotgun position, Lotus – she’d still not mentioned her real name and honestly, at this point it would have felt weird to outright ask – was digging through the front compartment, counting out a stack of dollar bills that had been stuffed in there along with maps, water and non-perishables.

“Don’t forget about getting us actual food, okay?” she said, with the commanding tone of voice that, now that Junpei thought about it, ought to have marked her as a mother from the start, “And don’t go overboard, got it? We don’t want to run out. And be careful–”

“Okay, okay,” said Clover, “Let’s go, you two.”

“I think it would be best if I stayed with the car,” said Light, sitting on Junpei’s right.

 “Ugh, you’re just too lazy to go shopping, aren’t you?” said Clover.

“Oh? Insults now?” said Light, not denying it.

“Whatever, spoilsport. Junpei, you’re coming with me!”

“What?” said Junpei, startled at the conversation turning to him, “Why does he get to make an excuse?”

“You want to go exploring, right? Because you’re cool, unlike my lame-ass brother over there. Right?”

Really, it shouldn’t have worked. Junpei consoled himself with the knowledge that he’d wanted to go all along as he dragged himself out of the car alongside Clover and made their way into town.

“So,” he said, exercise starting to wake him up a little, “This is America, huh?”

He supposed it was scenic, in a bleak way, nothing but desert and sky for miles past a few square buildings dotted around on what was barely a town square. It was hardly what you imagined from the movies, though.

“Well, the complex had to be off the grid,” mused Clover in response as she ducked into one of the less dilapidated buildings, “But you know, apparently Las Vegas is in this state. We should totally go.”

Junpei imagined it as he followed her in.

“That… does sound like fun,” he admitted, “Though I don’t think we have the money.”

She barked out a laugh. “Pff. Yeah. You think they’d have left us more as recompense, considering what they put us through.”

The past day flashed through his mind. He took in a shaky breath. Akane was alive because of it. At least there was that. It it would have been nice to confirm it with his own eyes, though, be able to talk to her — be able to get some answers. It seemed that some things were impossible, though.

“Junpei!” cried Clover.

Junpei whipped around, ready to face any threat – now that he thought about it, it was unlikely he’d not be on edge for at least the next few months – before quickly taking a step back to avoid the small, dark object Clover had decided to swing at his face.

“Whoa! What the—hey!”

He snatched it out her hand before bringing up whatever it was to his eye level. It turned out to be a keyring with a spiky cactus attached; it had the sort of demented grinning face that you’d be forgiven for expecting to only appear on Hallowe’en memorabilia.

“Get this, there’s a whole line of them,” said Clover, stepping to the side and revealing the shelf behind her with a flourish, “Sad cactus, angry cactus – uh, constipated cactus? And – jeez, I don’t even know what this one’s supposed to be. Existential dread cactus maybe? Betrayal cactus?”

He stared at the rack of tack before him, glorious and green.

“I need ten of everything.”

“Not nine?” said Clover.

At the look he sent over at her, she shrugged. “I hear laughing at trauma helps with the healing process?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to wait more than—” He checked his burner phone and counted in his head, before groaning.

“…Nine hours?”

“Shut up.”

Clover grinned, all her teeth showing. “Oh, man, you just make it too easy.” She dragged out the last consonant, like the thin whine of a siren. She gasped before Junpei could come up with a suitably witty repartee. “Is that—it is! Junpei, check out the angel one! Aw, it even has a little harp—I  _so_  need to get it for Light!”

“Huh? Why?”

“Oh! Uh. Never mind, I mean—”

But then she looked at Junpei, a flash of resolution in her eyes. “Ah, screw it. Light’s a harpist, a really good one – you should come to one of his shows sometime!”

For a moment, Junpei felt warm inside. He reflected on how much this odd little friendship of theirs had blossomed since they’d met, disoriented and scared, on the deck of that fake ship. Maybe it wasn’t much; something that, under normal circumstances, would really be nothing at all. Yet after all this, the fact she was talking like she was expecting their relationship to continue on, no longer a necessity and now a choice—

Well. It was nice.

“So, hey, uh, can I ask you something?” he asked as he moved his way towards the neighbouring novelty clothing rack.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I didn’t say anything before, since I just thought you were still keeping it under wraps, but—”

“Argh, just spit it out already,” she said, in a tone of cheerful exasperation.

“So, you  _really_  just used your real name as a code name?”

It wasn’t really worth getting petty over, but goddamn, Junpei had actually come up with a really good one before being denied its use.

“Hey, everyone else was coming up with all these super clever number-based codenames. You know how stressful it was, trying to think of something that didn’t sound dumb beside them?”

“I don’t think it would have been that hard to come up with something less dumb than ‘Santa’, honestly.”

Clover considered this. “I suppose it does seem a little contrived now that I think about it. And jeez, he had more time than anyone to come up with it as well! What a dick.”

“Wow. Take that, guy who isn’t here.”

“Hey, maybe we should make a voodoo doll of him out of one of these cacti and hurt its feelings. Like this one!” She grabbed an ornament of a woodcutter in the process of cleaving a cactus into pieces, crosses painted over its black eyes. “Looks painful enough.”

Junpei grinned, but it drooped a little as memories floated into his head, memories of that other doll and that hilltop far across the world from here and young Akane Kurashiki’s smile.

“Junpei!” said Clover. “Hey, space cadet. Earth to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Junpei, “Shouldn’t it be soft, though, for all the needles?”

“Emotional barbs can affect – uh, whatever this is made of – just as much as some felt doll. And it has more than enough needles stuck in it already, doncha think?”

Junpei laughed: no matter the situation, he was duty-bound to find puns hilarious.

“So, hey, can I ask something else?”

Clover groaned, but since the smile never left her face, Junpei thought he was good.

“Ugh, what is it now?”

“How come Light,” he said, plunging his hands into a black hole of t-shirts, “Didn’t come with us? I’d have thought he’d not want to leave you alone after—everything.”

Clover’s face turned serious. “Oh, that. Light’s making sure that he doesn’t escape.”

It was obvious who she was referring to.

“Ah, yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah,” said Clover, quietly. “Though that’s not the only thing. He’s also keeping an eye on that mummy woman.”

“I know we’ve all bonded or whatever, but you might want to ask Lotus before deciding—”

“Argh, you know who I mean. Alice-All-Ice.”

“Oh, did he tell you through—” He extricated one of his hands to make a vague motion in lieu of delving into the psycho-babble his brain was still holding off on acknowledging as real.

“Mm,” said Clover, noncommittally. “There’s something off about her. Like she’s acting nice and unassuming, but I feel like she’s planning something.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Something.”

Junpei supposed she’d probably know better than him. This was only his first foray into the world of kidnapping, morphic resonances and pseudo death games, after all – though now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the most encouraging sign that Clover and Light had got caught up in it twice now.

Eh, whatever. He put it out of mind and, after that, the shopping trip passed by quickly. It was strange: he’d only met Clover a day ago, yet she was so easy to be around, laughing and joking and making disparaging comments about overpriced merchandise together. They eventually ended up picking up twelve of the keyring cacti – in all honesty, there were only eight that they’d particularly wanted out of the lot of them, but the feeling of vindictive satisfaction that came in avoiding the number nine while still managing to fully take advantage of the 3-for-2 deal was worth the extra five dollars.

“Hey!” said Clover, when they finally arrived back at the car, punting the angelic cactus through the open window into Light’s surprisingly dextrous hands, “Look what we found!”

Light felt the object with a frown. “Well, it certainly feels like a felt toy,” he said, “But other than that—” He broke off as he got to the little harp and stroked around to feel the wings. “Is this an angel?”

“More like a prince,” said Junpei, fully aware that nobody would understand the joke and not really caring at this point.

“It’s a cactus angel,” cackled Clover.

“With halo and all!” Junpei chimed in.

They grinned in unison before bursting into laughter.

Light’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I take it you picked this out for me, then?”

“Yep!” said Clover. “And that’s not all!” She extended her arm out, revealing a bag crammed full of so many bits and bobs that the shop’s owner had near cried tears of joy while they paid – apparently, tourists didn’t come out to Nowheresville, Nevada very often. “C’mon, c’mon! Take your pick!”

As Light delicately explored the contents of the bag, somehow still managing to look refined while elbow-deep in cactus memorabilia, Junpei pulled out the next gift from another, smaller bag.

“Hey, Lotus!”

In the front, Lotus looked up from the map in surprise.

“You got something for me too?”

Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment hit Junpei for some reason.

“Well, I mean. Yeah. We got you a shawl,” he said, handing it over. “I mean, I know my arms got super sunburnt when I went to Tottori one time, and uh. Well, you’re, uh. You’re wearing less than I was at the time, so—” 

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” she said, thankfully interrupting him. Lotus let it tumble out of her arms, her smile turning to bewilderment and then to outright suspicion as everyone took in the green monstrosity of a pattern.

“This isn’t some round-about way of calling me prickly, is it?”

“Nah,” said Seven before Junpei could save himself with a quick denial, “He’s told you to your face more than a dozen times already, I don’t think he needs to.”

Seven yelped as Lotus took her revenge in the form of a pinch. It looked far more half-hearted than the other attacks she’d launched during the game, but Clover still interjected before the situation could escalate: “That’s not all though!”

“Really? This is more than enough for little old me, you know—”

But Clover had already launched Lotus’ cactus into her lap. Lotus peered down at it, uncertain. She picked it up, pinched between two long fingernails. “What—” she managed to get out, before pausing. The rest of the passengers took in the furious little techie cactus sewn onto a plush replica desk chair, needle-fingers extended onto a little plastic keyboard and monitor.

It was a strange choice, Junpei knew, but somehow it had called to him more than the others when considering getting a joke present for Lotus. His fingers had hovered over it, wavering in confusion, something telling him that this would be perfect despite having absolutely no evidence that was the case. Clover had come up behind him, regarding the situation for a long moment, before picking it up for him. “It just works that way, sometimes,” she’d said, quietly, and then Junpei had realised  _why_ , that a switch in his brain had been permanently flipped, and did that mean his life would never be the same again—

Lotus cleared her throat, then, and Junpei snapped to the present. “Thank you,” she said, still clearly a little freaked out. “But, hey, isn’t Seven looking rather plain over there on his lonesome?”

“Wha—” said Seven.

Junpei immediately jumped on the hook: “Oh, but we can’t leave you out! You’ve done just as much for us, you know!”

“All part of the job, you know,” said Seven, just as fast, though it was too late for him. He and Clover moved in tandem, almost like the two of them were actually the ones with the morphogenetic link, one pink-nailed hand swiping Seven’s hat off his head while the other slapped on a bright green baseball cap in its place with all the precision and speed of a slam-dunk.

“Ah,” said Light, tilting his head towards the scene, “I must say it suits you.” His small smile widened as Clover giggled.

“What the—” Seven said loudly, patting his new headpiece, before angling himself towards the rear-view mirror. He paused, a considering look on his face. “Actually, this does look pretty good.”

“Oh, really? I’m glad to hear it,” said Light, airily.

“Now then—hand over the rest of the goods!”

“Oh, but of course, officer,” said Light, still with an amused tilt to his head. Seven turned out to be far less graceful than he had been, rooting around the goodie bag like a golden retriever digging up a bone. As he did so, Lotus made a few derisive comments, though she did lean over to pick things out things he’d unearthed from time to time.

“Hey, Alice,” said Clover. Alice, who had been taking in the scene with bemusement, looked startled at being addressed. She pointed at herself with a raised eyebrow.

Clover nodded, flicking her head towards the bag. Alice looked at her with confusion before her expression shifted to something like—maybe being touched?

“Thank you,” she said, haltingly, waiting her turn before hesitantly peering into the bag. Junpei and Clover both watched her carefully as she picked up a novelty bracelet, little cacti in a circle pressing their branches together in a facsimile of clasped hands, with a smile. She didn’t seem to notice the mummy cactus they’d put in there, though with the mountain of goods Seven had laid to the side, she should have.

Was it possible that she wasn’t…?

Junpei glanced over at Clover, who gave him a minute shrug. It was clearly meant to be carefree, but she was still biting her lip. He placed a hand on her shoulder, unthinkingly; she jumped a little, then huffed at him, but nonetheless patted his hand with her own before leaping back into the verbal fray.

“Hey, Seven!” she said, in mock-shock, “Are you really taking  _all_  of those? You know you’re supposed to share, right?”

Junpei snickered as Seven protested that he was the most generous person he knew, and, in what he hoped were still the private recesses of his mind, he found himself hoping this wasn’t just a brief moment of two people traumatised by a death game coping together, but something that could last for years. Maybe even the buds of genuine friendship. He didn’t bring it up, obviously, not wanting to sound like a sap, but still – he couldn’t help but hope she felt the same.

As the group devolved into friendly bickering, Lotus, now beshawled, started up the engine, the car slowly making its way back onto the desert highway. Alice surveyed the rest of the group, playing with the bracelet uncertainly, uncomfortably aware of the man they didn’t think she knew was tied up in the back of the car and now even more unsure of what sort of people she was riding with, while somewhere else in the desert, at some other time, a girl sat in the seat of her own getaway car, eating strips of jerky as it drove in the opposite direction.

“Are you alright?” Aoi asked her, still on tenterhooks, unable to quite believe she was properly, physically there, unable to quite believe everything had worked out. Well, there had to be at least one timeline where it had, Akane mused to herself, since that was the entire point of the exercise.

Despite his worry, Aoi’s hands remained steady on the top of the wheel. She could sense the worry beneath his deliberately calm veneer; it was like he was a kid trying to get close to a wild animal, trying to follow the common adages to be still and collected, no matter what, otherwise it would run away, vanish into the woods—

 _Become a mass of ashes, floating through other times, other timelines_ —

Hm. Maybe it was only fair to let him act that way. It had been mere chance that he was the Aoi Kurashiki who existed within the successful timeline, after all. There were a multitude of other Aoi Kurashikis: grieving Aoi Kurashikis; Aoi Kurashikis watching their plan of nine years fall through; dead Aoi Kurashikis.

She’d never liked looking at those ones. Not at all.

“Akane,” said Aoi, softly, no doubt presuming she was reflecting on her own trauma rather than his, “You should get some rest.”

“You know there’s work still to do,” said Akane, “We’ll need to be ready.”

“Exactly,” he said, in that parental tone of voice he never should have needed to learn so young, “You should get rest now, while you can.”

“Aren’t you tired, too?” she asked. Aoi made a grumbling noise; she interrupted him before he could make an excuse. “Do you know what percentage of traffic accidents are caused by tired drivers?”

Aoi groaned. “Can we stop with the numbers. Just—just for a little while?”

“So you are tired,” said Akane, triumphantly.

Aoi clamped his mouth shut.

“I guess,” he said, after a little while. “There’s been a lot to do. A lot at stake. There still is.”

“Some of it’s done, at least,” she said, realising at that moment he needed to hear it. “I’m really here now. You don’t have to go it alone.”

Aoi’s smile turned beatific. The sun pouring in through the car windows illuminated his exhausted, kindly face as it turned towards her, as though he were a stained-glass depiction of one of the early martyrs come to life.

“You’re here,” he said, soft in the real way now.

“I am indeed. So how about we fuck up some bad guys now, hmmm?”

A scandalised look replaced the affectionate smile. “Wh—”

“Oh my, you’re not going to tell me not to swear now? Not when you’ve been doing nothing but for the past nine hours.”

“First of all, it’s already been nine hours since I stopped,” said Aoi, “And I was being  _in character_.”

Akane scoffed. “Oh, like you don’t swear all the time when you’re not around me,” she said. Before he could protest, she proffered the pack of jerky he’d insisted she eat to keep up her strength until they got to shelter. “Want some?”

Aoi glared at her, but then sighed and relented. “Let’s fuck up some bad guys,” he grumbled, “But first, get some sleep.”

Compromise won, Akane leant back in her seat, glancing over at the clock where it was placed in between them.

Their getaway car would approach the Nevada border at the exact same time as the other one did, though on the exact opposite side; she’d seen it, while scouting out this particular route to the future. She’d not planned it that way, which she liked. It felt almost like the universe synchronising itself to her goals, like it wanted them to succeed.

The last digit flipped over from 26 to 27. She counted each second as it passed, eighteen of them. The two cars passed over the border. She traced it in her mind, that imaginary line, thinking of it connecting Aoi and her to the rest of them, and to Junpei Tenmyouji most of all. A moment—then it had passed.

It was only then that she allowed herself to lean back and close her eyes. There would be no nightmares of the past, she decided, only dreams of the bright future she and Aoi would build, both for the world and for all those they’d used and sacrificed.   

“Aoi,” she said, meaning to tell him to wake her up when he got too tired so she could drive, but like a wave, all those nine years coalesced around her, sleep coming with them. 


End file.
